


The odd ways we fall (and the absurdity of life)

by deadlynerd



Series: Clexa AUs [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 09:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3763486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlynerd/pseuds/deadlynerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the tumblr prompt: 'You sit behind me and poke me every time I fall asleep during 9am lectures.'</p>
<p>Or: Clarke really doesn't like the Theatre of the Absurd and Lexa finds drooling distracting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The odd ways we fall (and the absurdity of life)

“And that is why, in this play, no one leaves, no one goes and absolutely nothing happens…”

Your eyes begin to drift close and you struggle to stay awake (but it’s hard because everything feels so, so heavy…)

You’re in your 9am English Lecture, and whilst Existentialism and the Theatre of the Absurd have their merits, there’s only so much postmodernism one can take at this horrendously early hour.

You suppress a yawn and try to shift in your seat. The room is comfortably warm and your professor’s face begins to swim before your eyes.

“Vladimir and Estragon are waiting eternally for…”

You give in, eyes finally closing and it is glorious to be able to rest when-

Someone pokes you, very hard in the back, making your eyes snap open immediately. Your fatigue is long forgotten as you turn around to glare at the stranger in utter shock.  

 (You’re not sure if you should be glaring at them or thanking them - it was an unnecessarily hard poke, but then again you have midterm exams coming up so you really do need to know what’s happening in this class.)

As you turn around, your eyes briefly meet soft, green ones and your glare immediately fades. You’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face and oh _boy_ is this girl attractive. Her cheekbones cut across her face in a way that should be _illegal_ and her hair is a beautiful mess of soft, brown curls. The stranger looks away from you and back towards the teacher, scribbling furiously in her notebook as you gaze at her in wide-eyed admiration.

“And so we’re all waiting for something eternally- waiting for salvation, waiting for hope and waiting for connection…”

* * *

 

You’ve decided that you are grateful to the pretty poking girl. Sure, jabbing someone you don’t know is a little odd, but falling asleep in an important lecture is worse than being poked unexpectedly.

Still, this time you don’t need the assistance of a complete stranger. You can stay awake by yourself, without the help of caffeine- you can use your sheer mental strength. You know you can.

And so that’s why it is such a surprise when you feel a sharp poke on your shoulder and your eyes snap open. You touch your mouth instinctively and realise that you’ve been drooling in your sleep and that yes, you did indeed fall asleep again.

But really, isn’t it inherently absurd to teach the Theatre of the Absurd before 12pm?

This time you don’t glare at the girl, rather you glance over your shoulder at her with a small smile and nod your thanks. She might have a weird way of helping you out, but she _is_ helping you.

And when midterms come up you’re going to be even more grateful to pretty poking girl.

You tell yourself that that’s all it is. Gratefulness.

(But you don’t miss the way your heart skips a beat and your stomach flops oddly when she gives you a little closed off smile in return to your quick glance.)

* * *

 

“I think I’m going to ask her to have coffee with me.”  

“Griffin you’ve got to be kidding me, you’ve never even spoken to PPG.”

“Raven, I told you to stop calling her that.”

“Well, master seductress Clarke hasn’t even managed to get pretty poking girl’s name so…you didn’t leave me much choice, princess.”

You merely roll your eyes at your roommate’s antics. She means well, really, you know and honestly it’s amazing to have someone as supportive, challenging and just plain _funny_ as Raven Reyes in your life. But sometimes she can be just a _tad_ over the top and it can really try your patience.  

Especially now- Raven has affected a dopey look onto her face and her voice has risen by an octave. To your horror, you realise that she’s trying to imitate _you._

“OH PPG PLEASE, PLEASE FRIEND ME ON FACEBOOK SO WE CAN HAVE POKE WARS AND CONTINUE OUR PASSIONATE AFFAIR.”

“Raven. Shut up.” You take several deep breathes and count backwards from ten while Raven rolls her eyes at you.

“Okay, okay princess don’t bite my head off. But seriously, do you even know what you’re going to talk about with PPG? She could be really boring and horrible Clarke.”

“Yeah but she’s really hot so…” You murmur, raising your eyes to the heavens (no, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t just because you found her unbelievably attractive.) You take a deep breath. “I don’t know Raven, I just…I mean even if she is just a pretty face I just want to know her you know? I mean poking someone is odd…but if it wasn’t for her I would be failing English.”

“Ahh you want to get into the mystery of this girl. And into this girl.”

“Raven I am five seconds away from punching you in the face.”

* * *

 

You’ve only had to be poked awake once by the PPG this week (and yes, unfortunately Raven’s nickname has stuck in your head) and that’s great because exams are _next week_ and you are so, so screwed.

Every day that week you’d resolved to ask the stranger out for coffee with you- it didn’t even have to be a date, just a way for you to thank her and get to know her.

And yet every lecture you’ve had with her, you’ve chickened out, staring straight ahead for the entire lecture and trying to ignore the fact that an unbelievably attractive girl is sitting right behind you.

So when you do get around to asking her, it takes the both of you by surprise.

It’s the last lecture of the week and like any Uni student worth their salt, you’ve managed to sleep through your alarm and are now horribly late for class. Your professor doesn’t bat an eyelid at your lateness (she probably thinks the concept of lateness is absurd, the big existentialist that she is) and you go to grab your usual seat in front of the PPG.

But to your outrage you see that someone has taken _your_ spot. Yes, you are fully aware that university does not have allocated seating arrangements but you’ve been sitting in that seat all term, surely, _surely_ you have well and truly claimed that territory as your own.

Trying to shake off your crankiness you look around for a seat and see one right behind the beautiful stranger that you have been weirdly obsessing over.

You sit behind her take out your notebook, trying to focus your mind on English, trying not to look at the girl too much.

(But _wow_ it is difficult not to stare as she looks particularly pretty today- her hair is braided into intricate patterns, pulling her soft curls off her face. She’s wearing a tank top and you can’t stop your eyes from roving over her bare shoulders. Tattoos curl lazily across her upper back and you swear you’re probably actually _drooling,_ because oh dear Lord this girl is definitely drool worthy.)

Needless to say, you didn’t learn much in that particular lecture.

After the lecture concludes the stranger gets up to leave and you can’t stop yourself. You lean forward and poke her rather forcefully on the shoulder.

She spins around, eyes wide with shock- her expression probably mirroring your own because _holy shit did you really just do that?_

“Hey, can I buy you a coffee? I really want to thank you for helping me out.” You blurt out, your mouth acting before your brain has a chance to step in.

Her eyes drift over you, her face expressionless. Eventually she inclines her head in a slight nod and murmurs: “That would be acceptable.”

You really hope that you’re not going to regret this.

* * *

 

“So I’m Clarke Griffin, I’m doing an Arts Degree and as you can probably see- I really suck at staying awake in 9am lectures. Umm…my favourite colour is blue, I really like Taylor Swift and dogs are great.”

“Lexa.” Is the girl’s only response to the flurry of information you had dumped at her in a nervous ramble.

“I’m sorry?” (Was ‘Lexa’ some odd way of telling you to shut up?)

The girl closes her eyes briefly and you have a feeling that she is trying to prevent herself from rolling her eyes.

“My name. It’s Lexa.”

“Ohh, right sorry Lexa.” You savour the taste of her name for a moment, letting it roll gently off the tip of your tongue. You like her name. _Lexa._

“Was there a particular reason you invited me to dine with you Clarke?” She articulates her words carefully and your heart jumps into your throat when she says your name. Wow, so this odd stranger crush has obviously moved from a low key crush to very, very high key.

 “I must admit I just wanted to get to know the person who has been saving my ass all term. Seriously, thank you.”

“It was no trouble. It looked like you could use the assistance.”

Lexa’s manner is still stiff and formal and you wonder what you can say to get her to loosen up a little.

You lean forward, cupping your face between your hands as you lower your voice to a whisper, glancing around the café in mock fear.

“So Lexa, tell me, what makes one decide to poke a complete stranger?”

“A lack of anything better to do.”

“Really? So you don’t find English as engaging as I clearly do?”

“Well, Clarke I do find the subject deeply interesting. But you were drooling over your notes and it was distracting me.”

“Oh c’mon, my spit columns are impressive.”

Damn you need to work on your flirting techniques. You don’t know if the expression on her face is disgust or mirth- you realise it must be the latter as you see a slight clench in her jaw, as if she is trying to keep herself from smiling.

 (You wonder why she feels the need to hide her smile- you’d seen a hint of it once and it had been truly spectacular.)

“As much as I love a good spit column Clarke, I really don’t think you’d appreciate it when it comes to exams.”

“No, no- you see if you’re doing a multiple choice exam, you fall asleep and the spit column that falls on the bubble closest to the answer is the correct one. This is science, Lexa.”

“Oh yes is it now Clarke? And what if the exam involves essay writing?”

“Then odd wet patches on the examination paper is just a postmodern protest about the absurdity of writing an essay in three quarters of an hour.”

“So you have been listening in class then.”

“Only thanks to you.” You smile at her, hoping that it comes across as friendly rather than creepy.

She smiles back faintly and your heart stutters uncomfortably (you uneasily wonder if you should go get a cardiogram because that did not feel healthy.)

As the ‘date’ (can you call it that?) progresses, you realise that to a certain extent Raven was right- Lexa is withdrawn and a little bit shy, but she’s also wryly funny and intelligent and after your coffee arrives the two of you are never short of conversation.

There are people in life that you just _connect_ with and you’ve just found one of them- someone who you can understand almost instantaneously, someone who you feel like you’ve known for eons of time, when in truth it’s been but a blink. Someone just like the beautiful girl sitting opposite you with an adorable milk and coffee moustache on her face.

(You tell her about it and she wipes it off hurriedly, trying to maintain her prim and proper image.)

These meetings with people who understand you for who you are oh so rare, and as the conversation swirls around the two of you, you find that you never want it to stop.

Sure, you barely know Lexa- hell you haven’t even found out what her last name is yet. But that small quirk of her smile and that flicker of light in her eyes is enough for you to know- you really like her. And you want to find out everything about her- from her favourite colour, to what makes her snort with laughter, to what makes her want to punch a wall.

And you feel a soaring feeling in your chest as you see the way that she is looking at you and realise that maybe, just maybe this could be the start of an epic adventure, the start of happiness.

But alas, you cannot sit in a café together forever, eventually you have to leave the golden haze that you’ve floated in and return to the hurry of life.

“Well Clarke, I wish you all the best in our exam next week.”

“Thanks Lex, right back at you!” You chuck a cheeky wink at her and she rolls her eyes in response.

“Do not call me Lex or I will start calling you Clar.”

“Oh my god. Please don’t call me Clar. That is the _worst_ thing I have ever heard. Okay and you can stop laughing.”

“Oh? Would you rather I call you Arke? That sounds like a sound someone would make when they ate something unpleasant.”

“Clarke. Just Clarke is fine. I’m begging you Lexa.”

Now it’s her turn to wink at you and once again your heart skips a beat- yes it is cliché, but your heart really does feel odd.

(Or maybe it’s not cliché, maybe you do need to see a cardiologist.)

“Well Clarke, I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”  Lexa scrapes her chair back and makes an awkward motion with her hand as if she was about to offer you a handshake.

“I look forward to it.”

(You can’t help but smile at her awkwardness- who knew that someone as beautiful as Lexa would be such an incredible dork?)

* * *

 

You walk out of the exam in a daze- you have that weird feeling of disconnect that you can only really experience after concentrating hard for extended periods of time. The world seems to be behind a glass window, with you tapping on the outside.

Your head pounds- _Godot, nothing happens, bad faith, Satre…_

You really, really weren’t made for exams. You lean your shoulder against a wall to check your phone for text messages from your friends and to try and clear your head of all things English.

(You also take some time to stretch out your hand because _man_ your fingers seem to be cramping from prolonged periods of writing. And now they’re shaking. This cannot be good.)

It is as you are focussing on trying to get your fingers to _stop shaking goddamn it_ that you feel someone poke you, _hard_ on the shoulder.

Spinning around in shock, you find Lexa alarmingly close behind you.

“Hey Lexa! How did you find the exam-” You trail off because she’s got an odd, heated look in her eyes, she steps closer to you. Holy crap is she going to kiss you? You’re sure she is and you lean forward in response to her gaze.

Her eyes flicker down to your lips and then back up to your own as if to ask permission as she slowly reaches forward to cup your cheek.

And then Lexa, the girl who had for some odd reason decided to poke you, kisses you.

(It’s more than you can believe- it is absurd that she decided to kiss you, that she could possibly feel the same way, that she was being oh so _careful_ with you, brushing over your skin with the softest of caresses…)

And then you stop thinking as you become overwhelmed by her- overwhelmed by the kiss.

It’s soft, it’s gentle and as you kiss you feel everything melting away until nothing remains but the tender touch of her lips against yours.

(And the faint taste of her raspberry chapstick.)

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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